Socially // Spencer Reid
A/N — I could actually cry at this request it makes me so happy, as someone without a diagnosis I found it easier to write the girl that way too, sorry for anyone who isn’t a fan of that idea. I based this off what I would want to happen, so let me know what you think!
- Blue x
Requested: Yep! Thank you @serendiptious-esparza
Warnings: Social Anxiety, fear.
— Y/N’s POV —
Being scared of the world was terrifying, everything around me made me feel uncomfortable. What made it worse was that, for me, there was barely any way to make it better.
I matched every single symptom written down, created, imaginable - but I hadn’t been diagnosed, and that therefore meant that most people didn’t believe me.
‘You don’t have a diagnosis, it’s not real’ ‘you’re just shy’
It was things like that that really hit deep, hit a nerve and made it worse.
The thought of ordering food from someone, their eyes staring so hard at me, the thought of talking to someone I hadn’t met before, knowing it could go anyway - things like that stopped me from living my life.
But with Spencer, things were different.
Him being a profiler, he could tell straight away why I was shaking like a leaf after someone brushed against me on the train. He could tell immediately why I had a panic attack after ordering food on our first date.
He helped me with it all, he made me feel loved, cared for, happy again.
He calmed me down, helped me breathe. Spencer knew exactly what it was like to be scared of people including yourself, so he was like a prince when it came to saving me from the world around me.
“Are you sure you wanna do this? I want you to be comfortable.” He says, walking up to me in our shared kitchen, butterflies resting in my stomach now going crazy.
We had a reservation booked for our three year anniversary, and I had promised Spencer and myself that - this time - I would order my food myself. I didn’t want to lean on him, he had his life to live and I didn’t want to give him my problems too. I wanted to tackle my demons, make them dissipate again.
“Yes, Spence. I need to do this, I mean I might have a panic attack but it’s worth it. Don’t they always say that you need to live your life and try and tackle the anxiety?” I say, arms wrapping around his waist in an attempt to hide the image of my shaking hands.
I could feel my whole body shaking like a leaf. I couldn’t sit still, eithe my leg was bouncing or my finger was tapping. My heart felt like it was going and twelve times the speed, about to shoot out of my chest like a bullet. I was sweating like mad, feeling my cheeks take a lipstick red shade and little beads of sweat begin to build on my head.
That was just thinking about ordering.
“Well, statistically, 6.8% of the U.S. population suffers from social anxiety disorder, so there’s a few people like you out there. Meaning, you might not be alone in the restaurant, and you won’t be alone anyway because you have me. If you need to, I’ll order for you.” He smiles, his facts making me giggle.
He always had a way of using his smartness to make me smile, to make me laugh the fear away.
If I didn’t want to leave the house in the morning, then he would throw a fact about how good being outside is for me - he knew how to make sure I was ok and didn’t let it get to my head.
“That’s good to know, but I’ll be ok.” I reply, as we head out the door to face my fears.
— — — —
“Hello, my name is Martin and I will be serving you today. Could I get you any drinks to start off with?” The waiter asks politely, seeming like a really nice guy.
Even bought I knew Martin and Spencer wouldn’t laugh at me, or make me feel uncomfortable, my hands wouldn’t sit still.
My body was losing control of itself. I was sweating, shaking and breathing so heavily I felt light headed.
“I-um- can i have a-uh-a glass of wine please? Just th-uh-that one there.” I say, the words almost a whisper through the barrier of fear.
My finger points to the name as he scribbled down the words.
The drinks are ordered and arrive, and it’s me and Spencer - and I’m breathing. I’m surviving and facing my fears - I feel like superwoman.
“Hey, I’m so proud of you. You did so well.” He beams, a smile painted across his face so bright it could light up a room of shadows.
I had never met someone who had believed me before him - it was all an excuse to other people. They thought I was quiet, or shy, to them it wasn’t real. Then, when I finally trusted Spencer enough to tell him, he was just proud of me for telling him. And now, everytime I do something socially - I’ve never seen someone be so proud. And it makes my heart melt knowing that the person I wake up to everyday, is someone who believes the words that leave my mouth.
“Thanks, Spence. Do you think he thought I looked stupid? I stuttered over my words real bad.” I ask, looking into my drink and remembering the almost non-coherent words I spoke.
“No, he probably thought you looked beautiful. Listen, for someone like you that was a really hard thing to do, really hard. I’m so happy you did that, you’ve never done it before!” He grins, not being able to talk about anything else.
“Yeah I guess so. Jesus it was scary but I’m so happy I did it.” I say, smiling back with a grin just as big.
“How do you feel about trying to order the food? It’s ok if not, you’ve done amazing already.” He says, looking down at the menu, knowing the kind waiter would be back soon to take the order.
“I think I’m done for tonight, but there’s always next time. I mean I’m taking little steps. Maybe I’ll go to the doctor soon.” I reply, thinking about how much better it would be if it was confirmed.
And with Spencer by my side, I wouldn’t have to live in fear anymore.
“Well, let’s enjoy our anniversary then!” He laughs, small giggles being let out of his body.
Without Spencer - I wouldn’t be able to do that. I wouldn’t tackle my fears, I wouldn’t move on from the anxiety-riddled feelings.
But I do, I face my fears and I smash them down like a brick wall that’s in the way.
And I’ll continue to do so.